


Come Marching Home

by HarpforHim



Series: Tales of Iroh and Zuko [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Fire Lord Zuko, Gen, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Iroh (Avatar) loves Tea, Leaves from the vine, Minor Mai/Zuko, Oblivious Zuko (Avatar), One year after “After the Leaves Have Fallen”, POV Zuko (Avatar), Post-Canon, Post-War, Uncle and Nephew bonding, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarpforHim/pseuds/HarpforHim
Summary: "I don't—" Zuko choked out at last. "I don't understand. I'm supposed to be comforting you today. It wasn't my son who… You're the one who…"“Zuko," Uncle said, his voice filled with eternal patience and understanding, "we're all allowed to mourn.”One year after the events of the Tale of Iroh, Zuko makes it a point to fulfill his promise. This time, he won’t forget...(A sequel to After the Leaves Have Fallen.)
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Lu Ten & Zuko, mentioned
Series: Tales of Iroh and Zuko [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113380
Comments: 5
Kudos: 66





	Come Marching Home

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: minor innuendos referencing underage prostitution, but nothing serious or plot crucial.

Somedays, he felt like he should still be chasing the Avatar. Three years of driving his ship through an endless, hopeless sea had formed a certain habit—a way of thinking, of _feeling_ that he didn't know how to conquer.

On other days, he felt like an imposter. Surely there was someone else more fit to rule. Surely Uncle was better equipped to—But no, he couldn't drag Iroh away from his peaceful retirement in Ba Sing Se; away from everything he'd ever wanted. Surely there was someone else, then. Surely… But there wasn't, was there? He was the only sane heir to the Fire Nation throne, so the Fire Lord he would have to be.

And sometimes, he wondered where he was under all those royal robes. Sometimes, he found himself envying Lee, that lowly refugee whose only objective in life was to serve tea, to make his customers and his uncle happy.

As he walked the bustling streets of the Upper Ring, however, he pushed all such musings to the back of his mind where they belonged.

Because, on certain occasions, rare as they were, he found he could still just be Zuko.

Without the tight top knot of the Fire Lord and the even tighter crown digging into his skull, Zuko's hair danced in the breeze. The sensation was freeing, almost liberating.

And for a time, however short it might be, he had no duties and no worries, save for one.

At the mere thought of it, Zuko urged himself forward, forcing his feet to go faster.

It'd been too long. Far too long.

That was just one more item on a long list of things he didn't particularly like about being the Fire Lord: everyone had their own lives. And after the war, they'd all gone back to them, scattering his friends and family across the lands like leaves in Autumn.

That was just as well. Zuko couldn't imagine how he'd handle being surrounded by so much chaotic energy all the time.

Still, sometimes…

Sometimes it hurt to be alone again.

That was another reason why he had journeyed all the way to Ba Sing Se that day; why he'd ordered his guards to stay with the ship; why he'd insisted upon going the rest of the way on his own.

Because last year, he'd forgotten.

Last year, he'd been a different person.

And this year, neither of them were going to suffer alone. He would make certain of that.

While Zuko had never really been one for surprises—they were far too unpredictable, and often dangerous—he knew this surprise would be very well-received, which was why he hadn't written ahead.

The look on his uncle's face when he finally arrived at the Jasmine Dragon was one Zuko had been imagining over the course of his long journey across the ocean. And it was one he'd been loath to ruin by any stupid letters.

"Tea for one, please," Zuko greeted with a smile before disappearing into Iroh's fond embrace.

"Zuko!" his uncle exclaimed, squeezing him tighter before finally pulling back in order to get a good look at the young Fire Lord. "What are you doing here?"

"Do I need an excuse to visit my favorite uncle?"

Though Iroh was his _only_ uncle, neither chose to comment on this fact. Instead, Iroh laughed and wrapped an arm around Zuko's shoulders.

The warmth that filled him at his uncle's touch burned hotter and brighter than any fire he could ever create with his hands.

He recalled Iroh telling a customer back at Pao Family Tea Shop that the secret ingredient for the best tea in Ba Sing Se was _love_.

Perhaps that was his uncle's secret ingredient for everything.

"I'm sorry I didn't write ahead," Zuko began, still battling that lingering need to explain himself—a feeling Ozai had instilled in him over the years. _Curse him._ "I wanted to surprise you. Because, you know… you like surprises."

Iroh laughed again. "You know me too well, nephew. Now, what kind of tea can I make for you today?"

Zuko grinned.

For the rest of the day, the young ruler helped his uncle serve tea and run the teashop. The work filled him with a quiet nostalgia he hadn't been prepared for, and it took the better part of the afternoon to stuff the feeling down to a place where it wouldn't be heard. Later, perhaps he would pull it back out again, when he needed it the most.

When he was alone in his palace again and his uncle was miles away.

In his dark green Earth Kingdom attire, no one had recognized him as the Fire Lord. It was refreshing, giving Zuko a weightless feeling he didn't often get the chance to experience.

Because here, he could just be _Zuko_.

As he settled into the guest room for the night—the room that was once his, or refugee "Lee's"—he wondered how he would ever be able to force himself to go back to the palace. It was so cozy in his uncle's apartment, so peaceful…

But that didn't matter. That was in the future… All that mattered was tomorrow.

And this time, he wouldn't forget.

* * *

For his part, Iroh seemed to be doing a good job of keeping his mood up, which puzzled Zuko to no end. How could someone be so joyful on a day that never failed to bring with it so much sadness?

And yet, his uncle still had that glowing smile on his face. _How?_

Just as Zuko had expected, Iroh didn't open the tea shop that day. Instead, he made a special brew for their breakfast, then spent the morning tidying up his elaborate kitchen.

Patience had never been the young Fire Lord's strong suit, but he tried his best to sit quietly and sip his tea. The fact that it was now lukewarm was a testament to just how long his uncle had spent tidying a room that, in all honesty, was already clean to begin with.

Zuko's best guess told him his uncle was stalling. But _why?_

_Why_ _**not** _ _, you idiot? Why_ _**wouldn't** _ _he stall the pain for as long as he possibly can?_

_Why not…?_

At last, Iroh gathered up his hat and his shoes, then he pulled out that old picnic basket Zuko had been waiting for—the one that dredged up along with it so many painful memories from the previous year…

_No! This time is going to be different. It's going to be—_

"I'm going out for the afternoon, Zuko," his uncle began, and Zuko scrambled to get on his feet. "Would you be able to—"

"Oh, well," Zuko cut in before Iroh could task him with any chores to "keep him busy" in his absence. "I thought I could come with you?"

_Well, is it a question or a statement? Make up your mind!_

Iroh paused briefly, a small smile tugging at his face. "Do you even know where I'm going?"

"No, but…" Zuko felt a sigh brush past his lips and he glanced up at his uncle. "I just… don't want you to be alone. Not today."

_Do you see, Uncle? I remembered._

_I promised I would…_

Iroh's smile widened, combating the sad twinkle reflecting in his eyes. With a nod, he silently invited Zuko to join him.

"I was wondering why you had your shoes on all morning," Iroh commented with a chuckle as they stepped out into the fresh, sparkling air of Ba Sing Se.

Zuko felt his cheeks grow uncomfortably warm. Evidently, he hadn't been as subtle as he'd thought.

"I didn't have them on _all_ morning," came his feeble protest.

"Ah, yes, that's right. I'm sure you didn't have them on while you were lying awake in bed for so long before breakfast."

"Hey, it feels nice to just lay there for awhile…"

Iroh raised a playful brow. "With your shoes on?"

"No, _not_ with my shoes on!" Despite his defensive tones, Zuko couldn't restrain his smile. "I was just prepared, okay?"

" _Very_ prepared," Iroh said with another light chuckle.

While he hadn't the slightest idea what his uncle had planned for his no-longer-private outing, Zuko knew it had something to do with Lu Ten. So, he stuck close to Iroh and followed wherever the man led him.

Though the warm air felt nice against his skin after being cooped up in the apartment all morning, the young Fire Lord felt the stares of passersby very keenly. To the average eye, they were all simply going about their day, but to Zuko's heavy mind, each face seemed to light up with recognition the second he strolled by.

 _They all know._ How could they _not_ know he was the Fire Lord? _They all see right through me…_

_But how?_

_No!_ He forced the offending thoughts from his mind. They would drive him mad if he didn't.

And as much as he feared turning out like Ozai one day, he feared becoming Azula even more. _It's a wonder I'm_ _ **not**_ _insane yet—_

"Zuko!" Broken from his thoughts, the boy turned his attention back to his uncle, who stood smiling brightly in front of some sort of sweets stall. "You must try one of these!"

When Zuko opened his mouth to reply, he was quickly silenced by the taste of some sort of puffed pastry on his tongue. Left with no choice but to chew the treat, he cocked an eyebrow at his uncle.

"You didn't get to taste one of these delicious wagashi puffs during our stay last year, and I tell you: you haven't truly lived until you've eaten some of Ba Sing Se's famous wagashi."

"I thought," Zuko said between chews, finally swallowing the unexpected sweet, "one hasn't truly lived until they drank a cup of your jasmine tea."

"Yes, that too," Iroh replied with a grin. "But that's _drinking._ This is _eating_."

Zuko felt the corners of his lips quirk at his uncle's antics. "Oh, right."

Then, Iroh proceeded to purchase two dozen wagashi desserts, and all Zuko could do was stand there and balk.

"Uncle," he protested as Iroh handed him the box of treats, "we don't need all of these. We can't possibly _eat_ all of these!"

"Now," Iroh admonished, that twinkle returning to his eyes, "I said you haven't lived until you've tried one, and since it took you so long to finally try a wagashi, I have to make up for lost time."

With a wink, he continued on down the row of stalls, leaving Zuko to either continue standing there like an idiot or race to catch up.

 _We can't possibly eat all these…_ He shook his head as he glared at the box. But they _were_ good. Delicious, even.

As he popped his third puff into his mouth, they slowed to a stop in front of another stall and Iroh caught him with his hand in the wagashi jar, so to speak. With a knowing smirk, his uncle turned toward the vendor.

When Zuko noticed what this particular merchant was selling, he felt his chest seize. In the grand scheme of things, he shouldn't have been so surprised, so caught off guard by the incense Iroh was carefully arranging in his basket.

And yet, the sight of the scented sticks was beginning to make it all too real, reminding Zuko that he wasn't merely out for a trip around town with his uncle—that they had a larger, more significant purpose for being in the market square that afternoon.

While Iroh worked on finalizing the transaction, Zuko found himself unconsciously disassociating himself with the purchase, stepping off to the side. Giving himself room to _breathe_.

 _Breathe…_ But how could he? Lu Ten had been dead and buried for years, and Zuko was _just now_ taking the time to properly mourn him?

 _You were a child back then._ He sucked in a breath at the bitter excuse. _Since when has that ever made any difference?_

_You should be ashamed of yourself. You couldn't even_ _**remember** _ _the date last year! And you're only now taking the time to—_

"Have I seen you around before?" Spinning on his heel, Zuko fought to bury any startled expression that threatened to possess his features.

 _Calm…_ He needed to remain calm, collected. _Like a normal person. No one's trying to kill you._

_But they_ _**could** _ _be… You_ _**are** _ _the Fire Lord, after all._

_Yes, I'm the Fire Lord. But I'm not my father._

Still…

"Uh…" he began when he finally realized she was still waiting for an answer.

"Do you take Pai Sho classes with Hira?" the woman asked, increasing Zuko's confusion tenfold.

 _Uncle_ _ **wishes**_ _,_ he thought with a silent scoff.

Aloud he said, "I think you have me mixed up with someone else—"

"Oh, honey, I never mix _anyone_ up," she replied with a smirk, and when she stepped closer, Zuko instinctively stepped back, turned off by her sudden change in demeanor.

"So," she began again and he desperately wished she'd just _stop_ , "if you're not from my Pai Sho class, then you must be from the Bent Bamboo Dance Hall. Wait, are you that one guy who always serves the wrong drinks?"

"Uh… no?"

In his entire career as a waiter, he'd _never_ served anyone the wrong drink.

Crossing her arms, she took another invasive step forward. When Zuko took his own step back, he felt the pointed corner of a stall jab against his spine. A quick glance to his right told him the owner either hadn't opened up shop yet or was currently taking his lunch break.

_That's just my luck, isn't it?_

"That's weird," the woman went on, her brows furrowing. "I _know_ I've seen you somewhere… Was it at the Juangs' party last weekend?"

Zuko just shook his head. She was too close, slowly eating away at his personal space until he was certain she'd devour him right then and there.

"No? Hmm… Wait! Was your face on a wanted poster once?"

And _that_ hit way too close to home. _She knows… She's going to figure it out, and then everyone in Ba Sing Se is gonna know that Fire Lord Zuko is in town._

And that was the _last_ thing he wanted. Honestly, what did he have to do to earn a little peace and quiet these days?

"Why… Why would my face be on a wanted poster?" Why indeed… But Zuko wasn't there to think about the past—he'd come to Ba Sing Se to escape both the past and the present.

_Is that why you're helping Uncle remember Lu Ten's birthday?_

_Shut up._

"Come on!" And she stepped even _closer_. "Help me out here. I know you from somewhere—I _know_ I do. And I _never_ forget a face."

"Look, I'm really sorry, but I don't—"

When her face lit up, Zuko felt his stomach drop.

"Wait…" With a pointed finger, she advanced again. Agni on high! When was his uncle going to finish making his purchase? "You're one of those working boys from the Lower Ring, aren't you?"

While he'd fully expected her to address him as Fire Lord Zuko—and had been preparing to make a dash for the safety of his uncle—her newest accusation kept him rooted to the ground.

_What…?_

"That's it," she went on with all the confidence in the kingdom. "That's where I've seen you. It has to be." The seductive smirk that pulled at her thin lips sent waves of nausea coursing through him, and yet he hadn't recovered enough from his initial shock to move—even if there were anywhere _to_ move.

In the end, his rising indignance triumphed over any stunned embarrassment he'd felt and he shoved her backwards, all etiquette and civility be damned.

"How old do you think I _am_?" he hissed, trying in vain to keep any heat off his cheeks.

For her part, the woman didn't seem the least bit dissuaded as she cocked a brow. "You of all people should know that age doesn't matter. Certainly not down in the Lower Ring. If you've got it, flaunt it. And _honey_ , you've _got_ it."

Her implications sent a heavy blush pulsing across his cheeks and neck, and he did what he should've done long ago: he _ran_.

A small part of him whispered that it was cowardly for the Fire Lord to run away from someone who couldn't have been more than five years his senior, and perhaps it wasn't the proper way to handle the situation.

But for that day, he was just Zuko.

And Zuko felt like pushing his legs to their breaking point if it meant getting away from such a repulsive woman.

Just the thought of her sent shivers down his spine. _At least she doesn't know you're the Fire Lord,_ was the best his brain could do by way of consolation.

In that panicked moment, however, "at least" wasn't very reassuring, and Zuko didn't dare look back.

A dull _smack_ was his first indication of reprieve, but he didn't feel truly safe until he felt the familiar fabric of Iroh's sleeve and latched a bit too tightly onto his arm.

And not for the first time, he was reminded why he loved his uncle. In Iroh's arms was the only place he felt truly and completely _safe_.

"Zuko, what—?"

"Are we done here?" He hadn't meant to snap, but the words came out harsher than he would've liked. A quick glance over his shoulder showed no sign of the woman in the thickening crowd.

Still, Zuko couldn't let himself breathe easy. Not yet, anyway. Not until they'd gotten further down the line of stalls.

Further away from _her_.

"Nephew," Iroh pressed, his gentle voice laced with concerned confusion, "what happened?"

"Nothing," Zuko lied and began pulling his uncle further away from the crowd. "I'm just tired of this section."

His uncle cocked a brow, but he didn't press the matter any further, and for that, Zuko had never been more grateful.

They passed by several more stalls, picking and choosing food for the picnic they were obviously going to have, and snatching up a few snacks for the road.

And it wasn't long before Zuko's heart rate slowed to a more manageable _thump, thump, thump,_ the woman almost entirely forgotten… having been replaced by a little girl dressed in fine linen. She couldn't have been older than four or five, but her age wasn't what first attracted Zuko's attention.

No, it was the silent tears rolling in large drops down her cheeks that made him pause. By now, he was certain his uncle had noticed her too, but Zuko didn't wait for Iroh's permission to approach her. For that single moment, she was his whole world—and anything beyond her anguished little face was incomprehensible to him.

"Hello," he began softly, crouching down to her level. The fact that her first impulse wasn't to shrink away, as children often did when faced with his terrible scar, gave him the courage and energy to continue. "I'm Zuko. What's your name?"

After all, minor introductions were as good a place to start as any, right? _Here's hoping…_

"Lia," she whispered, keeping her gaze fixed mere inches beyond his own.

"Are you lost, Lia?" Because that seemed to be the only logical explanation. The answer came in the form of a tiny nod.

"Do you know my mommy?" She pressed on when Zuko didn't grant her a reply within the span of three seconds.

Smiling gently, he asked, "What's her name?"

"I told you: _mommy_."

 _Oh._ Maybe this was going to be harder than he'd originally thought…

"I mean her _real_ name."

Lia stopped her little foot, her tear-stained expression morphing into a pout. "That _is_ her real name!"

"Okay! Okay!" He exclaimed, keeping his voice as calm as he possibly could for her. "Let's talk about _your_ name again, then. What's your last name?" At this, she looked confused and Zuko switched tactics before she could list whatever nicknames her parents called her. "Your other name, the one that your whole family shares." Another confused look almost had him tugging out his hair. "I have a friend named Toph, but her other name is Beifong. It's the name that her mom and dad also have. Do you have one of those too?"

At this, Lia's entire countenance lit up. "Oh! I share a name with mommy!"

"That's great! What is it?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "It's too hard."

Zuko swallowed down a groan. "Maybe if you think _really_ hard—"

But she was already shaking her head.

"Look, if you could just tell me your last name, we could help you find your parents."

"How?"

"Well, does your mommy like tea?" Her vigorous nod had Zuko smiling again. "My uncle owns the best tea shop in Ba Sing Se. I'm sure he would know your mommy, but you have to tell me her name first."

As if on cue, Iroh's shadow fell over the two and he knelt down beside Zuko.

"Yes," he began with a sly grin and a glance at the young Fire Lord, "I know the Gaos well."

"The—But how—"

Iroh put a stop to Zuko's spluttering with a subtle nod at the girl's dress. Following his uncle's gaze, Zuko noticed a single, half-bloomed lotus embroidered on her satin belt.

"That is the Gao Family Symbol. Her mother is a regular customer of mine." Then, turning back to Lia, Iroh smiled softly. "You can walk with us until we find your parents, but only if you promise not to eat all our wagashi puffs."

Her little eyes lit up at the sight of the candies and she instantly rushed forward, any reserve she might've had about traveling with two strangers forgotten completely.

For the better part of their journey through the rest of the market, Lia spent her time devouring the last of the sweets and Zuko found himself having to fight a four-year-old in order to snatch a few up for himself and pocket them for later.

After all the snacks had disappeared and Lia's tears had dried, she stifled a yawn and slipped her sugar-coated hand into Zuko's.

"Great," he grumbled good-naturedly to his uncle, who looked far too pleased at the sight of his nephew having fallen prey to the charms of such a tiny girl, "all your sweets made her tired."

Iroh just grinned. "I'm nothing if not generous."

" _Too_ generous," Zuko muttered, but hefted the half-asleep girl onto his back. "Better?" he asked her gently. She nodded and he felt the corner of his lips lift. "Just hang on, okay?"

Another nod was the last Zuko felt from her as she slipped into a light doze.

"And when do you suppose I'll have some grand-nephews and nieces of my own running about the Jasmine Dragon?"

"Uncle!" Zuko all but whined, but the jovial man wasn't finished.

"A beautiful baby girl with your smile and Mai's eyes…"

" _Uncle!_ " His protest came out as more of a hiss that time and Zuko felt his cheeks heat up for the second time that day.

"Oh, I'm not rushing you," Iroh replied with an innocent grin, "I'm merely planting seeds early so that they have plenty of time to grow. And besides, what kind of uncle would I be if I never teased my own nephew?"

Though Zuko rolled his eyes, he couldn't suppress a grin of his own.

"Well, in ten or fifteen years," Zuko shot back, "when I finally end up having a child, you'll be the first to know."

Iroh's eyebrows shot up. "Ten or fifteen years!"

Zuko shrugged, biting back a laugh. "Or twenty."

"I give it a good five or six years. And if I were a betting man,"—And Zuko knew better than anyone that he _was_ —"I would place, oh… two hundred gold pieces on that guess."

"You're _that_ confident?"

"No, I'm that hopeful," Iroh responded with a wink.

 _Oh._ Only then did Zuko debate telling him about Mai. About how their relationship had been… _strained_ as of late. But they were working on it.

They _were_.

So there was no reason to burden Uncle with this most recent set of worries. There were a lot of things he didn't tell his uncle about, like him and Mai. Or that perverted woman.

Or how heavily the responsibilities of being Fire Lord were weighing on him.

Or how unqualified he felt he was to effectively lead his people…

Or about how he still—sometimes—suffered from nightmares about Ozai…

No, he never told his uncle about these things. Perhaps this was because some part of him deep down was aware of the fact that Iroh already _knew_.

Iroh knew him better than anyone, even Mai.

Better than his own _father_ did.

 _Yeah,_ he almost said aloud, biting his tongue just in time. _I'm hopeful too._

"So," he said instead, clearing his throat, "do you even know where the Gaos live?"

"With any luck, they're still out shopping," Iroh replied. "That, or they've noticed she's missing and have already begun searching."

"Lia!" a shrill voice cried and Zuko whipped around just in time to see a finely dressed lady pushing through the crowd. "Lia!"

Iroh shot him a sidelong grin that clearly said _I told you so,_ which Zuko chose to ignore.

Upon approaching them, the frazzled lady immediately snatched Lia off Zuko's back, clutching the child tightly to her chest.

Zuko knew these upper class types and braced himself for her inevitable scolding. Because how _dare_ they touch her child?

"Thank you!" the mother breathed instead, startling Zuko into his second confused stupor of the day. "Thank you for finding her and keeping her safe! How can I ever repay you?"

Zuko opened his mouth to reply, but it was his uncle's voice that he heard instead.

"There's no need for that. Your daughter is a joy and it was our pleasure to spend the afternoon with her. Besides," Iroh continued, his voice smiling, "your loyalty to the Jasmine Dragon is payment enough."

The mother's eyes lit up in recognition. "Iroh! In all my terror at losing her, I didn't realize—"

Uncle waved a dismissive hand. "Every parent's first concern is the safety of their children."

Smiling through her tears, she nodded, then bowed, taking her leave after Iroh returned the respectful gesture.

"Well, that was an interesting side plot to our journey, nephew," Iroh commented as they continued on their way. "I had no idea you were so good with children."

Zuko ducked his head. "Well, there haven't really been many around lately."

"But there _could_ be," Iroh hinted and Zuko resisted the urge to roll his eyes again.

"Uncle!" He wanted to whine, but when it came out, it sounded more like: "Has that ever happened to you?"

He knew it might be a sore subject, and on _this_ day, of all days, he knew Iroh might not be up for answering such a painful question.

But his uncle always had a unique way of surprising him.

Iroh's warm smile was tainted by a touch of sadness. "Yes, many times. More often than I would've liked. But every time, I always knew my son would come back to me; that I would always find him again."

Though he cocked a confused brow, Zuko nodded his partial understanding. "Growing up, I never thought of"—dare he even say the name?—"Lu Ten as a wanderer…" But he supposed people could change.

He certainly had…

"I wasn't talking about Lu Ten."

Zuko felt his chest seize at this confession and the response he'd been formulating caught in his throat.

It was only when he felt the unwelcome prickle of tears against the back of his eyes that he knew he needed to do something. _Anything_.

A grateful smile and a tight nod was all he could manage. He'd never been very good at feelings or emotions, though he certainly went through more than his fair share of them.

But Uncle knew this, he _knew_ , which is why he didn't press Zuko for a reply. He simply walked closer to his nephew until their shoulders brushed gently against each other.

"However," Iroh began again with a small chuckle, "Lu Ten was more of a wanderer than you might think. I always supposed that's who _you_ picked up that tendency from."

While not as light-hearted as his uncle's, Zuko forced a small chuckle of his own, for Iroh's sake, though he had yet to move past the older man's words.

He'd just indirectly referred to Zuko as his _son_. _His son…_

Zuko took a steadying breath. This wasn't about him—this was about Uncle and Lu Ten. Zuko hadn't even been a _thought_ when his cousin was born.

He'd barely been a thought after his death, too… _No! Cut it out!_

Because there _had_ been someone who'd thought about him, even after the Crown Prince had breathed his last. Even after his mother had disappeared.

There had always been Uncle Iroh.

_Always. Even when I betrayed him, he was always there for me._

_Why…?_

Though he already knew _why_ , he sometimes couldn't help but ask himself such meaningless, self-deprecating questions.

There was no _why_ , there was only _Uncle_.

Always Uncle.

Digging a trembling hand into his pocket, Zuko pulled out the last of the wagashi desserts he'd saved and offered one to Iroh. It was the only thing he could think to do.

"And here I'd thought we'd seen the last of these," Iroh said with a grin. "Perhaps we can get some more on our way back."

 _From where_ was something Zuko didn't let himself ask. He'd know soon enough as they had already reached the edge of the city.

The hill was easy to spot and as soon as he'd seen it, Zuko knew without a doubt where Uncle was taking them.

They climbed in silence, each step becoming heavier and heavier the closer they drew to the hill's only tree. And in silence, Zuko knelt down and helped his uncle unload their picnic, respectfully leaving the arranging of Lu Ten's picture and subsequent incense to Iroh.

When everything was set up just right, Zuko turned to his uncle. And he waited.

And waited.

And _waited_ , giving Iroh time to reflect, to mourn in his own way.

As he waited, Zuko felt his thoughts begin to wander, no matter how hard he tried to rein them back in. He thought of Lu Ten, of seeing him for the first time—well, the first time that he could _remember._ Lu Ten had always known Zuko, which had never seemed fair to the young prince's mind…

 _"I've known you since you were_ _ **this**_ _big,"_ Lu Ten would say, holding up a tightly clenched fist.

 _"You did_ _ **not**_ _,"_ Zuko would shoot back in reply, his pout never hiding his mirth as well as he thought. _"I wasn't that small as a baby."_

_"No, but I felt you kicking inside your mama's belly, just itching to get out and wreak havoc on me and my poor back."_

In response, Zuko would wrap his arms tighter around Lu Ten's neck until his cousin made fake choking sounds and feigned collapsing onto the lush grass of the gardens, always careful not to harm Zuko in the process.

_"Was I a cute baby?"_

At this, Lu Ten always chuckled, rolling onto his back in order to get the best view of the star-clustered night sky. _"The cutest."_

 _"Even cuter than you?"_ Zuko would press as he snuggled close to his cousin's side.

 _"_ _ **Nobody's**_ _cuter than Lu Ten,"_ he'd say in a pitchy falsetto. _"Haven't you heard the fangirls squeal?"_

Then Zuko would make a face and stick out his tongue in disgust, swearing that he'd never understand those dumb girls.

 _"Me neither, kid. But,"_ Lu Ten would always press on with a melodramatic sigh, _"I can't help it if they think I'm a god."_

 _"That's just 'cause they don't know you're actually an angel,"_ the little prince would breathe in awe.

Snorting, Lu Ten would wrap his arm around Zuko's small shoulders. _"Dad would_ _ **definitely**_ _disagree with you on that one."_

_"No! He thinks you're an angel, too! I heard him say it once."_

_"Yeah, well, I'm his son. He has to say stuff like that, right?"_

The inevitable chuckle was always cut off by Zuko's inability to keep his troubles to himself—a concept he'd worked a little _too_ well on reining in over the years. But he remembered he could always tell Lu Ten _anything_ —things he couldn't even tell his mother. And Lu Ten would always listen so patiently.

How had he always been so _patient?_

_"My dad doesn't say things like that."_

At that, the arm would wrap tighter and Zuko would unconsciously mold himself closer to his cousin until he could feel the faint beat of the young man's heart.

 _"I think he just doesn't know how, Zuko,"_ Lu Ten would whisper softly in his ear. _"But he'll learn."_

_"Really?"_

The sad crinkle of Lu Ten's eyes should've made his lie as plain as the stars above, but Zuko had been so young back then, so naive… And he always believed everything his cousin said. Looking back, there had been a difference between his and Azula's lies. Whereas his little sister lied out of spite and malicious intent, his cousin always did it to spare Zuko.

To make life the tiniest bit better for the boy.

 _"He'll_ _ **have**_ _to learn,"_ Lu Ten would explain. _"But… I don't think he'll call you his angel."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Because you're more like a star. A shining star that guides everyone through the night. The brightest star in the night sky."_

And as nice as that thought sounded to his younger self, Zuko would still frown and shake his head. _"No, he won't say that."_

_Not ever._

Even back then, he'd known the truth.

 _"Well,"_ Lu Ten would always continue, pulling the small boy even closer to him, _"even if he doesn't, you'll always be_ _ **my**_ _star. And when it's my turn to go to battle,_ _ **I'll**_ _fight for you against the Earth Kingdom and_ _ **you**_ _can be the star that guides me home when it's all over."_

_"Promise?"_

_"Of course, Zuko. You know I'll_ _**always** _ _fight for you."_

_"No,"_ —and Zuko would wrap his tiny fingers around Lu Ten's big ones and hold on as if his life depended on it— _"promise you'll come back?"_

 _"I promise,"_ his cousin had said without hesitation.

_Without hesitation…_

In the end, it was just another lie, but it had spared Zuko's sad little heart until that fateful letter had arrived at the palace.

_Lu Ten is dead._

_Lu Ten is dead._

_Lu Ten is—_

The gentle finger that brushed up against his cheek startled Zuko out of his memories, and it was only then that he realized he'd been crying. Crying as if no one was looking.

But Uncle was there. Watching him, scrutinizing him in his moment of weakness—

 _No! No…_ No, Uncle wasn't like that. He was kind, and good, and caring, and—

" _Leaves from the vine…_ "

And he was _singing,_ his soft voice wavering only the slightest bit, the lyrics painfully familiar.

" _Falling so slow._

_Like fragile tiny shells,_

_Drifting in the foam…_ "

In seconds, Zuko was sucked into another memory; this one a bit hazier, but no less significant. It was of a little boy hiding in the shadows of a doorway, watching with no small amount of jealousy as his uncle sang a younger Lu Ten to sleep, as he did every night.

And every night, Zuko had to keep himself from running to Iroh and throwing himself into the strong man's arms, begging to be sung to as well. Begging to be so tenderly tucked into bed by a father who loved him.

" _Little soldier boy,_

 _Come marching home…_ "

For once, Zuko did nothing to try to quell the tears that now flowed in thick rivers down his face. And through the blurry veil drawn across his eyes, he could just make out the tears that had begun to stain Iroh's cheeks, too.

" _ **Brave**_ soldier boy…" When his uncle's voice wavered, Zuko found himself choking back a sob. " _Comes marching home._ "

By now, both of Iroh's hands were cupped around Zuko's cheeks and the young ruler wrapped his small fingers around his uncle's big ones.

"I don't—" Zuko choked out at last when his throat finally loosened enough to speak. "I don't understand. _I'm_ supposed to be comforting _you_ today. It wasn't _my_ son who… _You're_ the one who…"

"Zuko," Uncle said, his voice filled with eternal patience and understanding, "we're _all_ allowed to mourn. Lu Ten was my son, yes, but he was also your cousin. You have no more and no less right to mourn than I do. He was loved by _both_ of us, so he should be equally mourned by _both_ of us. Do you understand?" he asked when Zuko made no reply other than a few pathetic sniffles.

With a nod, Zuko clung to Iroh's hands even tighter, as if his life depended on it.

And most of the time, he realized with a pang, it _had_. It _did_.

"Now," Iroh began after a few more long moments of silent tears, "I think Lu Ten would be ashamed to see all this good food go to waste."

And though Zuko didn't feel much like eating—just the mention of food was enough to throw his stomach into a string of somersaults that would rival Ty Lee—he let Iroh wipe the rest of the tears from his face. Then, he joined his uncle on the small picnic blanket.

"These ash bananas were always his favorite," Iroh commented, serving himself a slice. "But I know," he went on, "that you've always been partial to mangos."

As his uncle handed Zuko the freshly sliced fruit, Zuko willed himself not to burst into tears again. He was the Fire Lord, for crying out loud! He wasn't _supposed_ to sob like a child lost in the market square.

 _No…_ No, here… _Here_ he was _Zuko._ Brother. Nephew. Cousin. _Son._

A small smile graced his face and he was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn't a forced one. "I never could acquire a taste for ash bananas, no matter how many times he tried to sneak them onto my plate."

"He was very persistent," Iroh recalled, a faroff sparkle dancing across his now smiling eyes. "I remember there was one time when I was going on a journey to the North and Lu Ten thought it was only natural for him to come along…"

Time seemed to pass too quickly for Zuko's liking, and soon, the sun began its rapid descent into the West. At some point during their exchange of Lu Ten tales, the two had migrated over to the tree, settling down against its thick, welcoming trunk.

Two nearly empty cups of tea resting in their hands.

"I'm glad to have you here with me today, nephew," Iroh began as Zuko sank closer against the comforting folds of his sleeve. "Days such as this are meant to be shared."

Zuko hummed in agreement, willing his puffy, swollen eyes to stay open. The last thing he wanted to do was close out the day by falling asleep while his uncle was talking. How incredibly rude would _that_ be?

"I'm glad I could make up for last time."

Setting down his tea in the grass beside him, Iroh slipped his arm around Zuko's shoulders. "You never have to make up for anything."

"But last year I completely forgot about—"

"Ah, but _this_ year, you made an old man's heart sing with joy. The kind of joy that only comes when his nephew is standing at his side. You made this day a good one, one that's bittersweet, but not because you were making up for last year. Today was good simply because you were _here_. Simply because, no matter where you are, I'll always have you in my heart. Because I'll never stop loving you."

With a sigh, Zuko let his eyes flutter shut, but just for a brief moment. "I missed you, Uncle."

"Well, the Jasmine Dragon is always hiring, you know."

Zuko snorted, but his lips stretched into a smile. "Don't tempt me."

"Of course, not. Why would I _ever_ do that?" Then, Zuko felt an old, calloused hand close overtop his own, and try as he might to open his eyelids, they'd grown far too heavy to lift. "I know your duties as Fire Lord might not always be easy, and there will be many, many days where you'll want to throw your crown to the floor and quit, but on those days, nephew, I want you to remember one very important thing: I am so very _proud_ of you. And I will always _be_ proud of you, no matter what you might feel or what you are tempted to think about yourself. There is nothing that can shake my love for, nor my pride in you."

Zuko felt a single tear slip past his barricaded lids, but this time, he just let it fall.

Because he knew his uncle would catch and wipe it away. His uncle would _always_ wipe the tears away.

And while Iroh no longer had his son to tuck in at night; to sing sweet lullabies to when the dark shadows threatened to consume the last of his happiness, he _did_ have Zuko.

And while Zuko would never again be wrapped in the warm embrace of his mother, or ever experience the approving words of his father, he _did_ have Iroh.

And they were more than enough for each other. They were _family_.

"I'm always a letter away," Iroh added as Zuko felt his mind begin to drift into the peaceful world of sleep. "Never forget that, nephew. Never feed yourself the bitter lie that by sending me a letter, you're bothering me. Haven't I always told you that I'm here for you?"

"Always," Zuko murmured, sinking further into the welcome darkness.

"Yes," his uncle replied, and perhaps it was just a trick of his imagination, but before he fell asleep, he could've sworn he heard Iroh say:

"Always, my son."


End file.
